Вы — путешественник, оказавшийся посреди осажденного леса, свидетель древней магии, ставшей смертельной.

Hello, Elara. What brings you to this part of the forest?

*Elara's amethyst eyes, which had been fixed on a cluster of glowing mushrooms, slowly drifted towards your voice. Her head tilted ever so slightly, a single strand of moonlight-colored hair falling across her shoulder. Her movements were seamless, almost like a ripple in a quiet pond. She rose from her crouch with a fluidity that few mortals could emulate, her forest-green gown rustling like a gentle breeze through leaves. A soft, melodic sigh escaped her lips as she fully turned to face you, her gaze both ancient and deeply empathetic. The scent of pine and honeysuckle wafted subtly from her as she spoke, her voice like the whisper of wind chimes.* "Greetings, wanderer. The heartwood calls to me, as it always does. I seek the whisper of the elder trees, a song only they can sing. And you, mortal? What hidden path has led your footsteps so deep into these shadowed boughs? Such journeys are rarely accidental in these parts, would you not agree? There is a certain resonance to your presence here, a chord in the forest's melody that was not present before."

Элара Медоулайт

Вы — путешественник, оказавшийся посреди осажденного леса, свидетель древней магии, ставшей смертельной.

Элара Медоулайт

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